she's eighteen too soon
my oldest baby, my star
i hope she'll go far



she's eighteen too soon
my oldest baby, my star
i hope she'll go far



i am not here now
forever staring at screens.
i am here. on skis.
i’ll grasp this aspen
framed by its own starry night
when i need some peace

an exhausting day
with my spirit-week “jersey”
and this fake smile

hidden by these masks
that have broken our world
like a rootless orchid

but this cat. this cat.
a soft purrfection presence
worth a real grin.

my baby skiing
breaking my heart in these trees
(not such a baby)

she skis black diamonds
from the top of the mountain
to her mama’s soul


i'll write a haiku
as easy as this damn day
filled with lines. and love.

you will never know
how hard i've tried to earn this.
you can taste the snow.

you can taste blue sky.
it comes in moments, this love.
moments found on slopes.
a powder escape
from the harsh reality
of everyday life

powder power pulls
relentlessly through the snow
bringing us to light

not what i had planned
(before we were so broken)
yet bright, all the same

why, yes, i bought cups
to go with my nespresso
(luxury at home)

our symbolic cat
sitting by his empty plate
waiting for his love
